When the Ceiling Blinks

Asha doesn't sleep anymore. The doctors at St. Kilda say the insomnia is in their head-that the lights, the whispers, the movements are nothing but side effects and stress.

But Asha swears the hospital is alive.

Every night, the ceilings twitch. The walls breathe. Something in the vents whispers their name.

They started keeping a diary to stay sane-to separate what's real from what isn't.
But the pages keep changing when they're not looking.

Sleep is mercy. Wakefulness is punishment.
And the ceiling is watching.